


Do You Wanna Know What My Love Is? Do You Wanna Hear How My Song Goes? Don’t Say No

by LennaNightrunner



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LennaNightrunner/pseuds/LennaNightrunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Stiles/De-Aged Derek one-shot set during Episode 4.02 ("117"), except Kate doesn’t snatch Derek away quite so soon. (Title from song by The Alkaline Trio.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Wanna Know What My Love Is? Do You Wanna Hear How My Song Goes? Don’t Say No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ismene_Jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismene_Jane/gifts).



Derek looked small and lost, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. Well, he actually _was_ smaller, considering he was magically sixteen again, but he looked metaphorically small, too. His eyes flitted about Stiles’ room, taking in the details--posters, nicknacks, memorabilia--and tilting his head every now and then to listen to sounds Stiles’ inferior human ears couldn’t hear.

"Sorry things are kinda fucked right now," said Stiles, standing awkwardly next to the bed. "We'll figure it out, though. Soon. We just--"

"How do you know me?" asked Derek abruptly.

"Huh?” Stiles was taken aback. “Scott and I told you already,” he said evasively, firmly resisting the nervous urge to pace. He needed to appear as calm and collected as possible if he was going to reassure young Derek and keep his trust.

"Yeah, but..." Derek trailed off, frowning. "When you first saw me, in Mexico, you looked at me like... I dunno. Like you knew me. Like, _really_ knew me." He shook his head. "But I can't remember you at all."

Derek's gaze was as intense as a teenager as it was in his twenties. Stiles looked away self-consciously. His hands wouldn't stop fidgeting.

"Why're you so nervous?" said Derek.

"Nervous? Me?" Stiles laughed (nervously). "I'm not nervous. Why would you think I was nervous? No nervousness here."

"What kinda dumbass hangs out with werewolves all the time and still tries to lie to them?" said Derek, eyebrows raised in a very older Derek-like manner.

Stiles' ears felt warm. "This kind of dumbass, apparently."

He hoped that would be the end of it, but Derek wouldn't stop staring at him.

"What?" said Stiles self-consciously. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

Derek cocked his head to the side. "This is gonna drive me crazy."

"What?" said Stiles. He really wished Derek would stop staring, because Derek staring at him made him stare at Derek, and if he stared at Derek he couldn't help looking for the familiar features in his face. The cut of his jaw, the color of his eyes. The shape of that mouth he'd fantasized about in sooo many creative ways.

"It's like..." Derek looked like he was struggling to find the right words. "Everything about me remembers you except my brain."

Stiles blinked. "Derek, that makes _zero_ sense."

"It makes complete sense," Derek insisted. "There are lots of ways to remember things. Scent, for one."

"You remember how I _smell_?" said Stiles skeptically.

Derek stood up and moved close to Stiles--kinda invading his bubble of personal space, truth be told--and inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He nodded with certainty. He also didn't move out of Stiles' space. Stiles could feel his pulse start to speed up, betraying him.

"Hunh," said Derek, like he'd just observed something interesting.

Stiles swallowed totally-not-nervously, heart hammering in his chest now at Derek's proximity. Stiles hadn't been sure at first whether he would still be attracted to a younger version of Derek. It turned out that yep, he was. Very, very much so. And apparently any version of Derek standing this close to him, alone in his room, was enough to excite Stiles.

Stiles was standing so still now he felt nearly frozen. This Derek wasn't _his_ Derek (as much as older Derek belonged to Stiles, which wasn't nearly as much as Stiles wanted), but it was still Derek. Younger but still gorgeous, more innocent but still full of pain and confusion. Different but undeniably, inescapably familiar. And Stiles had missed Derek so much, had been so worried about him. 

Derek's face was so close to Stiles' now, hazel eyes holding Stiles' gaze, that he could feel the other boy's breath on his cheek. Stiles' own breath had fled him. If Derek didn't move, maybe Stiles would never breathe again.

Then Derek's eyes closed, and all it took was a slight tilt of his head, a slight lean forward, and his lips were pressed against Stiles'. Stiles' first kiss from Derek Hale, and, in all likelihood, his last. It was warm, and soft, and experimental, and it was over waaaay too soon.

"Breathe," whispered Derek near Stiles' ear, and Stiles shivered reflexively as he obeyed, only then realizing that his lungs had begun to burn with their need for oxygen.

"Is that what you have with him?" said Derek quietly, eyes finding Stiles' again. "With me?"

Stiles sighed and shook his head, dazed. "He's-- _you're_ \--not interested. Or it doesn't seem like it, anyway."

"You sure?" said Derek, with a very slight but unmistakably flirty smile. "You smell good to me. Pretty sure that means you smelled good to him, too."

A laugh escaped Stiles. "As flattering as that is, I guess it's not enough."

"Whatever version of me you knew sounds kinda uptight," said Derek.

"You're not wrong," said Stiles with a slight smile.

"It's not like I--he-- _we_ don't like guys," said little Derek matter-of-factly.

Stiles laughed again. "I think you just made that pretty clear."

"I could make it clearer if you want," said Derek in a darkly suggestive tone. And, to his horror, Stiles _blushed_. 

The corner of Derek's mouth turned up. "You're _sure_ I don't like you?"

Stiles tried to shrug like it didn't matter to him either way. "You think I'm obnoxious."

"Well, yeah," said Derek, like Stiles' obnoxiousness was a universal fact known even to people who had basically just met him. "So?"

"So," said Stiles, "isn't that kind of a turn-off?"

Derek shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it."

Stiles had to look away or his blush would get worse.

"Look, dude," said Stiles. "This is, like, majorly awesome. Seriously. Kissing? I'm down. But soon we're gonna get you back to normal, and either you'll forget it, which will suck for me, or you'll remember it, which will suck for both of us."

"Jesus, you like to talk," said Derek. "Definitely obnoxious."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Now you’re starting to get it."

Derek was quiet for a moment. He bit his lower lip in a very, very distracting way as he assessed Stiles. When Stiles' pulse sped up again, Derek licked his lips. Stiles kind of wanted to die. Maybe he was already dead and this was Stiles Heaven. A combination of sexy and utterly confusing sounded about right for his afterlife.

"You said you're going to remember this either way," said Derek, in a tone that suggested this was the beginning of a longer line of thought.

"Yeah," said Stiles, wary of the look in Derek's eyes.

"Then maybe I should give you something worth remembering." Derek _smirked_ at Stiles, who was more than a little surprised by how cocky a teenager Derek could be. Dude had _game_. If adult Derek ever got half this forward with Stiles, Stiles was pretty sure he'd do anything Derek asked him to. Especially bedroom-related things. Or car-related. Or dark corner-related. Stiles wasn't picky.

Stiles nodded dumbly. Then Derek's fingers were tangled in the short hair at the back of Stiles' head, and he pulled Stiles in for another kiss. This one was rougher, more demanding. It made Stiles' head go hazy and his stomach metaphorically fill up with metaphorical butterflies.

"Holy shit," whispered Stiles against Derek's mouth, and then he was the one kissing Derek. There were dozens of reasons why this was fucked up, and even more reasons not to do it. Dozens of possible regrets, dozens of negative consequences. But they were all outweighed by one powerful reason to do it: Stiles _wanted_ to. He wanted it with what felt like every fiber of his being. And this might be his only chance. So fuck it.

Derek pulled Stiles down onto his bed, then rolled him so that Derek was on top, pinning Stiles. Stiles was all too happy to be pinned, especially once Derek started kissing him again. And kiss him, Derek _did_. They kissed until their mouths were dry, until Stiles’ lips were raw and pink, until Derek’s eyes were glowing when he pulled back to look at Stiles.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” said Stiles breathlessly when he saw them.

“Got a thing for wolves?” Derek teased.

“At least one of ’em, apparently,” Stiles countered with a grin.

“Obviously,” said Derek, and he grinded his hips down into Stiles’ to prove his point; they were both aware (painfully, in Stiles’ case) that Stiles was hard. To be fair, though, Derek was, too.

“Got a thing for humans?” said Stiles.

“At least one of them,” said a smug Derek, and kissed Stiles again. He was rolling his hips into Stiles’ now in a very convincing pantomime of some seriously sexy sex, and soon Stiles was groaning with very little thought to how stupid it must sound to Derek. Not for the first time, Stiles was grateful that his dad worked nights sometimes.

“What do you want?” asked Derek, voice rough in a super sexy way.

“I don’t even know,” said Stiles hazily, dry throat making his voice surprisingly rough as well.

Derek’s tongue slid slowly along the shell of Stiles’ ear. “What do you usually like?”

Unsexy as it was, Stiles laughed. “There’s no ‘usually,’ dude. Just ‘first.’ As in, right now.”

Derek pulled back far enough that he could look at Stiles' face. "Seriously?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Derek, I swear to God, if you stop because I'm all virginal or innocent or some shit I will literally explode. And not in the fun way."

Derek arched an eyebrow at Stiles. "Did I say I was gonna stop?"

"No, but..." Stiles shifted self-consciously, which was not entirely unpleasant considering the proximity of Derek's hips to his.

"I'm just surprised," said Derek.

"Surprised?" Stiles nearly laughed again. "Why?"

"You look good. You smell good." Derek shrugged. "Someone should've fucked you by now."

Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot yet again. "...You are sooo not the Derek I know."

"Better or worse?" asked Derek.

"Just... different," said Stiles, analyzing Derek’s face again. Biologically, this was definitely Derek, but still. Wow.

"Hmm," said Derek. "Well, I already know he hasn't done this."

Without warning, Derek lifted himself up and slid down Stiles' body, straddling him just below the waist. This felt awkward for a second, after which point it became clear that the reason for this position was so Derek could get at Stiles' belt buckle. All bets were officially off.

Derek's mouth around his cock was the single best thing Stiles had ever felt. Hot and wet with this amazing pressure that made Stiles reevalute everything he had previously assumed about Derek's sexual history. Siles’ first orgasm from another human being (well, human _oid_ ) was _fantastic_. He floundered a bit when he tried to return the favor, but Derek was patient with him, telling him what to do without making Stiles feel like he was making a fool of himself. Through teamwork, they managed to achieve the desired result. It turned out that cum tasted weird and had kind of a gross texture, but Stiles was okay with that. All things considered, it was a small price to pay.

After that, Stiles thought that maybe they’d be done. But then Derek asked him if he wanted more. And he did. Stiles wanted everything he could get. Because this could very well be his only chance, and like hell was he going to waste it!

Being fucked hurt at first, even with Derek's fingers stretching him beforehand. Stiles had expected it to, but it was still unpleasant. But Derek was slow, careful, until it was suddenly not unpleasant. In fact it was pleasant. Very pleasant. And before long, Stiles was clutching at the sheets and groaning Derek's name within a stream of nonsense words he hoped Derek would take as encouragement.

By the end, Derek was fast and rough and Stiles was loving every minute of it. He came for the second time--Hooray for teenage boy refractory periods--without being touched, which made Derek finish not long after. Stiles found that he felt an unexpectedly profound sense of fulfilment from making Derek come. Man, sex was _awesome_.

Afterward, Derek pulled Stiles close to his body and got an arm around him. Stiles hadn't considered the idea that there might be snuggling, but he welcomed it. His body and Derek's molded together nicely, and the way Derek hid his face in the crook of Stiles' neck, obviously breathing in Stiles' scent, was strangely endearing.

"If you remember," said Stiles softly, afraid of breaking the spell, "can we do this again?"

Derek made an amused sound. "If I don't remember, we should do this again anyway."

"But--"

"Don't be a wuss," said Derek, pulling Stiles closer against him. "I already made the first move."

Stiles smiled, fingers finding Derek's sweat-damp hair and stroking through it.

"This is nice," murmured Derek. "Do me a favor."

"Hm?" asked Stiles, who was suddenly sleepy and only semi-coherent.

"If I do forget, and you have to ask me for this..." Derek sounded tired now, too. "Don't let me say no."

* * *

They’d been back from Mexico for a few weeks. Ever since Derek had come back from the dead and earned his full-on wolf-out form, he’d been looking for a place near the woods to live. He’d finally found one a week ago--a two-bedroom cottage on the edge of the preserve where the Hale House had once stood--and the pack had helped him move what few belongings he had into the new place. 

Somehow, Stiles ended up being the last person there. He’d still had one of Derek’s couch cushions or something in the back of his Jeep when Scott had to leave on his bike for work. Derek and Stiles stood in the driveway together, an awkward silence threatening to stretch between them. They hadn’t really been alone since Mexico. Hell, they hadn’t really said anything of note to each other since Derek had told Stiles to go, to save Scott, when they’d both known Derek was dying. When the only thing stronger than Stiles’ instinct to stay and help Derek had been Derek’s command to help Scott.

“Want a drink?” said Derek, his voice snapping Stiles out of his thoughts.

Stiles smiled. “Do you know what the penalty is in California for furnishing alcohol to a minor?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “No.”

“Me, neither,” said Stiles cheerfully, “but I bet my dad could quote you the exact code.”

“So do you want a drink, or not?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” said Stiles. “What Pops doesn’t know won’t hurt him or get you arrested. Again. Sorry.”

Derek rolled his eyes before leading Stiles back into the cottage. He grabbed two beers from the fridge, opened one, and handed it to Stiles. They were both silent again as they sipped from the bottles.

“I remember, you know,” said Derek after a minute or so had passed.

“Huh?” said Stiles. He’d been halfway through a sip, so it came out sort of gurgled.

“I remember you and me,” said Derek.

Stiles’ pulse skipped. He’d forgotten. Well, he’d tried to make himself forget. It had been a one-time thing, when something insane was going on. It could never happen in what passed for ‘normal life’ in Beacon Hills. When he didn’t say anything, Derek continued.

“Since you’re not the one who got their age magically turned back and lost all their memories after that point, I think you probably know what I’m talking about,” said Derek.

He set down his beer bottle on the nearest table and started walking toward Stiles, slowly, like someone who didn’t want to scare off a skittish animal. Stiles couldn’t speak, let alone move.

“You wussed out on me, though,” said Derek. He was a foot away now. Less. “You were supposed to ask me.”

Gently, Derek took the half-drunk bottle from Stiles’ hand and set it down, too. The brush of Derek’s fingers over Stiles’ startled him. It took him two tries to get the words out:

“I’m not supposed to let you say no.”

Derek nodded, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. He rested his warm palm on the side of Stiles’ neck and kissed him. Slow and deep, familiar but new. Definitely scruffier. Stiles sighed through his nose, heart pounding with nervous excitement. He braced his hands on Derek’s arms so he could get better leverage to kiss him (and to keep himself from falling down if he got all weak-kneed), but Derek broke the kiss.

“I won’t,” said Derek. “Say no. Just so you know.”

Stiles smiled. “Good. ’Cause if you’re up for breaking another law involving minors today, I know for a fact that you have a very heavy, very cumbersome bed.”

“God, you’re obnoxious,” said Derek. Then, without warning, he hauled Stiles (who flailed in an undignified manner) up into his arms and carried him into the newly-furnished bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my _Divided Loyalties_ beta [Ismene_Jane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismene_Jane) to cure a bad day :) Thanks to my new collaborator (on an upcoming project) [Savannah_Clover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Savannah_Clover) for beta and feedback (and to Ismene_Jane for doing a pre-post beta on her own gift XD).


End file.
